The Surgeon’s Studio

“Yo, here they come.” Su Yun seemed to be expecting them.

He immediately turned off his phone and stood ramrod straight in his smoothly-ironed white coat.

Strangely enough, not a trace of femininity was visible on him.

“I guess the surgery is really troublesome. I’m going to check it out,” said Zheng Ren.

“Count me in.” Su Yun excitedly followed Zheng Ren to the operating theater on the third floor.

Then, the System’s flat, robotic female voice rang out in Zheng Ren’s ears.

[General Mission: A Colleague Seeking Assistance.

[Task: Help a colleague complete the surgery.

[Reward: 100 skill points and 5000 experience points. Based on the surgery completion rate, which reflects the colleague’s admiration, an additional reward will be given.

[Time: 5 hours.]

Huh? A mission?

Saving the surgeon by resolving serious intraoperative difficulties could also trigger a mission assignment? Zheng Ren felt a sense of satisfaction; the surgery would definitely have gone more smoothly had he been the surgeon in charge.

The only pain in his neck was Su Yun, an annoying fly constantly buzzing around him. Many ladies envied him, but he simply disregarded Su Yun as a nuisance.

Zheng Ren had no attraction to men.

He pushed the brat to the back of his mind and digested the mission along the way.

An admiration from a colleague mentioned in the mission: what the hell was that?

No matter what it was, he would find out once the surgery was complete.

After changing into surgical attire, Zheng Ren entered the operating theater and stood behind Chief Surgeon Sun to observe the operating field.

“Little Zheng, scrub up and take over the surgery.” An anxious Chief Surgeon Sun skipped all formalities, cutting straight to the point with cold sweat on his brow.

Staring at the bloody mess in the peritoneal cavity, Zheng Ren instantly understood Chief Surgeon Su’s issue.

Su Yun glanced at the operative field and shifted his gaze to Zheng Ren, who had a calm demeanor. Surprised, he followed Zheng Ren and performed a surgical scrub as well.

Zheng Ren had no clue about Su Yun’s motives, nor was he willing to ask about them. Su Yun’s sharp tongue had given him almost the same depth of impression as his unrivaled beauty.

Since he could never win an argument, he may as well shut the hell up.

Zheng Ren finished scrubbing and put on a surgical gown. Just as he was about to stand at the first assistant’s position, Chief Surgeon Sun said, “Little Zheng, come here.”

Then, he shoved the second assistant next to him aside and occupied that space.

Zheng Ren hesitated for a brief moment and accepted the offer.

Why would they performatively argue over where to stand for ten minutes when the patient had an exposed peritoneal cavity?

Su Yun, who had put on a surgical gown and a pair of sterile gloves, walked toward the first assistant and said coldly, “Are you not going to move out of the way?”

“…”

The first assistant, a chief resident in the second general surgery department, was grumbling internally when Chief Surgeon Sun gave his spot to Zheng Ren, but he had not expected a repeat of such a slight so soon.

Before he could retaliate, though, he met Chief Surgeon Sun’s gaze.

He instantly admitted defeat and stepped away from the operating table. After that, he indignantly removed his gloves and occupied the most strategic location to observe the surgery—lateral to the head end of the operating table.

Not everyone knew how to perform surgery, but they sure knew how to find fault with it.

His heart throbbing with resentment, he waited for a slip-up with his eyes wide open.

Xinglin Garden began broadcasting the surgery live as soon as Zheng Ren occupied the surgeon’s position.

An increasing number of viewers had taken notice of this anonymous account. Ten thousand viewers in a single broadcast room was massive for Xinglin Garden, but was still small compared to the number of hospitals in China.

Ten seconds later, hundreds of doctors from all over the country entered the broadcast room.

[The god’s recent surgeries weren’t difficult. I wonder what today’s surgery is about.]

[Well, you can ask him in advance. It’s just like requesting chapter updates before reading a novel. It’s an international practice.]

[My surgery skill has skyrocketed after watching the surgery replays from a few days ago a hundred times.]

As the doctors saw the image on the livestream, the mood instantly stopped being jovial. Most of those with profound experience instantly knew what was going on.

[Finally, the god is going to perform a complicated surgery. I’ve burst into tears.]

[Is this an intraoperative call-for-help? My sympathy to the initial surgeon-in-charge.]

[Sympathy? At least he has someone else to assist him in surgery. If you encountered such an issue, your best bet would be to close the abdomen straight away and explain your failure to the patient’s family. If they are reasonable, everything will be fine, otherwise… I don’t even dare think about it.]

[That’s true, our hospital had a similar case last year. The family made a banner later declaring that our doctors were unethical and had total disregard for human lives.]

The latter doctor had gone from discussing the disease to complaining about similar cases, as if trying to expel all the bitterness in his heart.

The call-for-help was a common term used in the operating theater.

When an unfamiliar intraoperative difficulty was encountered, the surgeon would call someone with greater expertise, from within or outside the hospital, to handle the operation.

Of course, he could also seek a second opinion from colleagues at a similar skill level.

Outrageous cases of intraoperative calls-for-help had happened before. For example, there had been a complicated case of a congenital heart defect in West China Hospital, and the surgeon had been dumbfounded as soon as the thoracic cavity was exposed. After that, he had sought assistance from a senior cardiothoracic surgeon from a random hospital in Imperial Capital, who then flew to West China Hospital and participated in the surgery.

The senior cardiothoracic surgeon from West China Hospital was one of the best in the country and had almost identical proficiency as that of the professor from Imperial Capital. They exchanged opinions intraoperatively and finally managed to complete the surgery after fourteen hours.

There were many similar tales in every hospital.

Everyone became excited after witnessing this call-for-help in the latest livestream.

[Are those the greater omentum and transverse colon? Why is that mess so huge?]

[You’ve superb eyesight, my friend. How do you know it is the transverse colon?]

[Damn, look at that sticky mess. F*ck the surgery and just close the abdomen. The way I see it, even the god won’t be able to finish this.]

[I’m worried. Those are severe adhesions, and any torsion will cause leakage of intestinal contents into the peritoneal cavity, leading to an infection… The more I think about it, the more afraid I am. If I’m performing this surgery, I’ll just close the abdomen straight away.]

As medical personnel, they all understood only too well how complex this operation was.

Distinguishing anatomical structure alone was already difficult.

However, judging by the incision and its distance from the head, they could roughly conclude that this was an upper abdominal surgery involving the gallbladder, pancreas or liver.

If they had encountered such severe adhesions intraoperatively, almost everyone would have come to the same conclusion—abort the mission!

In the operating theater, Zheng Ren observed the situation for a few seconds and extended his right hand.

He wanted a pair of blunt scissors, but his palm was still empty after a few seconds.

Tsk… Xie Yiren was still the best.

“Blunt scissors,” instructed Zheng Ren.

“Oh.” The scrub nurse was preparing a suture needle and thread for abdominal wound closure. From experience, it was impossible to proceed with the surgery any further.

Surprisingly, Zheng Ren actually requested a pair of blunt scissors. Was he going to give it a try despite Chief Surgeon Sun’s failure? How ignorant!

Since it had been asked for, though, she immediately searched for the blunt scissors and placed it onto Zheng Ren’s palm.

‘That’s too much force. She isn’t as gentle as Xie Yiren,’ Zheng Ren thought.

He cast the idea aside and started bluntly dissecting the adhesions with the scissors.

Apart from the blunt scissors and his hands, he needed nothing else, not even the first and second assistant. Holding the scissors backward, he used the blunt end to make an opening and started bluntly separating adhesive tissue using his fingers.

“Little Zheng, slow down and be gentle.” Zheng Ren’s movements frightened Chief Surgeon Sun.

This young man was too reckless.